Penumbra
by Endoh
Summary: “The only viable way to truly live in this world is to cast aside morality, immorality…sanity, insanity. Live limitless…with me.” EdxBellaxJake —DARKfic NC17—


**Thank you _LuLu _for pointing out that I had this in the wrong category. That might explain some things.... Haha. Anyways, it shall now be placed in the _correct _category. :)**

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"The only viable way to _truly_ live in this world is to cast aside morality, immorality…sanity, insanity. Live limitless…with _me._"

Beta(s) for this chapter: Juniper11 (Thanks, girl! :D )

EdwardxBellaxJake

Rating: NC17 (Extremely dark themes, extreme violence/gore, extremely graphic, explicit sexual content -NC17-)

You've been warned: _Penumbra _**is not for the faint of heart; this story is disturbing and not meant for those incapable of handling mature situations**.

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Jukebox (suggested song to listen to while reading; listening adds so much to the story, I think): "The Only One" by _Evanescence _(links available on my profile)

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A few things to note before reading:

* Characters may appear very OOC; this is due to the fact that an _entirely_ different sequence of events shall occur. Alrightie? If you don't want to read something like this, this is the time leave. Thank you.

* This is a **DARK** story. "Dark" as in it will probably contain the following: sex (lots of it), blood, gore, murder, rape, torture, twisted themes, cursing (tons of it), and whatever else I decide to add. For those of you who have read my stories before, you know that I tend to focus on dark ideas and twisted shit. As for you who don't yet know me and my writing style, you've been warned clearly and thoroughly. :D If you don't feel comfortable with any of the mentioned, please don't read this story. Thank you.

* I don't like Bella Swan, so I've created a _much _darker version of her.

* Knowledge of Sigmund Freud's ideas (more specifically the id, ego, and superego) is needed to understand the symbolism, so to speak…. Oh, and a familiarization with the affliction of sociopathy is _vital_. We'll be exploring some physiological elements, here.

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_Penumbra_

Chapter One: Interwoven Webs (of the Brown Recluse)

"_We call it a chaos, a cauldron full of seething excitations...."_

_-__ Sigmund Freud,_

_New Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis (1933)_

_-_

She gazed into the foggy mirror, scrutinizing the obscured reflection of her wet face. Carefully, she slid a dainty hand across the glass, wiping a streak clean, and she smiled a bitter, sanguinary smile at what she saw: verdant perfection. Sopping, brown locks outlined the delicate contours of her beatific face; beads of hot water drifted slowly over gentle, rose-colored lips; dark, prominent lashes lined large, russet eyes; china skin accentuated the darkness of her more outstanding features.

She held out her pointer finger and solicitously dragged it over the remaining vapor, carving the following into mistiness:

**Bella, Bella. Lovely, untouched Bella. Won't you smile for me?**

Her memories of that torturous time were scarce; perhaps it was her mind's feeble way of attempting to protect itself from the catastrophic results that surely would have ensued if the memories were completely in place. But her mind's fragile defense was slowly faltering: Every night, she dreamt of that time, of that place, of that pain, of that agony, of that _man_; every night, she regained bits and pieces of lost knowledge; every day, she gained more horrific pieces to her own puzzle.

"Bella, dear," Atellus' placid voice brought her out of her jaded stance, "you must leave for your first day of school in ten minutes."

"Thank you, Atellus. I'll be down shortly," she whispered, knowing his vampiric ears would catch the slightest sound.

Fumes of a freshly prepared breakfast reached Bella's nose; Atellus always had treated her exceptionally well, taking her in after her parent's murder and granting her _every_ fancy. She leisurely toweled herself off, knowing Atellus would make sure she arrived on time. When she was satisfied, she dropped the cloth and strode out of her luxurious bathroom to her spacious closet. Bella plucked out a lavender cotton sundress and zipped it up, the delicate lace reaching her mid-thigh; white stockings, a pair of light violet heels, and a pallid cardigan followed, covering just the right amount and showing off _plenty_. Quickly, she dabbed a touch of berry-colored lip-stain to her lips, just enough to draw an adequate amount of attention to them, just enough to have any male to see them fantasizing about what those lips of hers would feel like. Bella loved the thought. She turned to examine herself in the long mirror on the pale wall. She felt her red mouth jerk upward: She looked perfect, just as she intended. She exuded innocence, flawlessness, kindness, approachability—absolutely everything she wasn't, absolutely everything she could never possess.

_Perfection._

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As always, Atellus exceeded her expectations, and she arrived at the cloud-covered school with plenty of time to spare. She turned to kiss Atellus on his frostbitten cheek; he nodded his head in acknowledgment, his disheveled, black hair falling even more out of place onto his perpetually young, handsome face.

"Goodbye, Atellus. And tomorrow, I'd like a car to drive myself."

He beamed; he enjoyed nothing more than granting her every wish. "Of course." After all, it was all he could do to possibly ease her pain…and his own guilt. "A silver Range Rover, I presume?"

With a sweet smile, Bella slammed the door to his Mercedes and drifted away. Charily, she molded her features into an expression of slight bewilderment and charming self-humor as she pretended to decipher her schedule. Immediately, her guise worked, and people flocked to assist her and meet her, whispers of the murder of Chief Swan following ever so softly….

_So simple_, she grinned inwardly, _to manipulate the world with this blameless façade of mine._

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The day passed by smoothly, just as Bella had planned; she had gained an eager following by second period, and she was already the talk of the school, being the gorgeous daughter of the brutally murdered Chief of Police and all. She could feel numerous masculine eyes upon her, drawn to her every movement. But it was all so boring, so _easy_. Where was the challenge? There existed no sport in manipulating the gullible! It was like hunting a corralled deer: The intended prey would fall, but there was no true chase. The secret, ludicrous adrenaline rush only came after she set foot in her Honors Biology class.

Bella felt the nearly involuntary upward jerk of her lips as she saw her newest adversary in her silent game: a beautiful, _dashing_ vampire—and a ravenous one at that! What _fun_! What _sport_! The thought of possible hazard never crossed her mind; it never would. So she gracefully took her seat next to the seething man, taking a moment to revel in the disappointed groans of the male populace.

"Hello," she said with her saccharine song, "I'm Isabella Swan." She did not make a move to shake his frigid hand. "What is your name?" Her mahogany eyes bored directly into his ebon ones as she slid her chair ever so slightly closer to his, fully aware of the effects of her actions.

"Cullen," he gritted out between his clenched jaws as he put as much distance as he could between them, "…Edward."

_Oh, this is going to be interesting_, Bella thought as she recalled what Atellus had mentioned about the local vampire family. Bella reached into her bag and withdrew a clean leaf of paper and a fountain pen. On it, she neatly penned the following:

**You seem to be in horrible agony at the moment. You're plotting just how you're going to kill me, aren't you? You want me more than you've wanted any other. Am I, perhaps, your singer? Yet I see that I frustrate you. Do you loathe the fact that you cannot read my mind?**

Inconspicuously, she passed the note to him and watched in gleeful satisfaction as his lovely face contorted into an even greater horrorstricken expression. His icy hands gripped onto the edge of the table with such a force as to send tiny fissures through it, frantically holding his breath all the while.

**Relax, Cullen. **She scribbled quickly and neatly, a sated smile gracing her features as his stygian-black eyes followed her delicate wrist with an _uncanny _interest. **Surely your 'father' told you about his old friend and my 'uncle' Atellus? When you return home, go out for a long hunt and then ask your 'father' more about us.**

He nodded gravely, his hold on the table tightening.

"Do you think," she began in an inaudible murmur, "you can survive the temptation? Or shall I leave for the nurse's office?"

He made no move to respond; she had to wage a small battle within herself to refrain from sneering. To have such a power over such a deadly creature…! She found the situation to be gaily humorous: The 'predator and prey' notion Edward was surely envisioning was…quite different from hers; the role reversal in actuality was…_spectacular_.

He was plotting her downfall…as she was plotting _his._

"Excuse me," Bella interjected politely, "I have a horrendous migraine. May I be excused to the clinic?"

"Yes, of course, Miss Swan," the teacher agreed absently and returned to his lecture.

As she began to gather her things, she whispered, "Atellus and I shall be visiting you and your family tomorrow. Go out for a nice, _long_ hunt tonight." She stood and added, "Oh, and please tell Carlisle that Atellus looks forward to seeing him again." With that, she swayed out of the classroom, forcing every set of eyes in the room to look on her as she left.

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"Carlisle, it was like nothing I've ever experienced before." Edward threw his fist down on the table.  
"I've never felt such a thirst in all my life! I was planning out every move as if it were a game of chess! I knew exactly which pieces I needed to destroy to get to the king.… And to think, I thought of cognizant beings as _pawns_," Edward spat vehemently. "The notions running through my mind… The atrocities I was considering… They were _monstrous...._"

Carlisle attentively nodded his blonde head, allowing his beloved son to vent his anxiety.

"And she _knew_, Carlisle! She knew exactly what she was to me before I realized it! How could she know? How could a _human _know so much, sense so much, _see _so much?" Edward's melodic voice was desperate as he fretfully raked a hand through his coppery locks, his shadowy eyes begging an explanation from his father.

"I've known Atellus Aurelius for centuries; he's a good man…and he loves Isabella Swan more than anything or anyone else in the world. Atellus, you see, has a talent unique to himself: He can predict and identify the talents of others—both human and vampire. Bella suffered great tragedies not so long ago, all of which he feels responsible for; he took her in to alleviate his guilt, but he also recognized her potential. I'll let it be up to Bella whether or not she wants to reveal to you her past, but know this is: It is a tragic one."

Edward stilled, wishing Carlisle's thoughts would elaborate where his voice wouldn't, but Carlisle had learned to shield his most private thoughts after living with the mind reader for so long. "So, Isabella Swan possesses a talent…. Carlisle, it is possible, then, for an ability to show itself before someone is turned?"

"Yes. And that ability will only become more prominent after her turning, like your brother's ability to compel emotions and your ability to hear and see thoughts."

"I suppose that answers one of my questions…. I couldn't read her, Carlisle. She's the most maddening being in existence." A lopsided grin of pure agitation formed on his marble face as he swallowed the free flowing venom.

"I suppose you need to fortify yourself; she and Atellus will be visiting our home, for I've talked it over with the Blacks and they know Atellus lives as we do."

Edward's statue-like face fell into a frown. "I… I wish I could just leave, just run a thousand miles from here…so I wouldn't remain a constant threat to her. But I've seen what Alice has: I will come back; I will _always _come back, for I will never be able to resist her…. Because I am weak. Because I am monstrous."

Carlisle's expression fell, agonizing over his son's agony. "I have faith in you. I know you won't hurt her. You just need to be vigilant, son."

"If only you knew how undeserving of your confidence I am…."

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As Edward Cullen bounded through the boughs of trees, he pondered over what Carlisle had told him and the few thoughts Carlisle had failed to censor.

_Just what did this Atellus man do to her?_

It took only one thought of Bella Swan and her delectable blood to fling him into a hunting frenzy. Three bucks and two cougars later, he was sated. He leaned his bloodied, beautiful body against the trunk of a century-old tree, sanguine rivulets staining his perfectly white skin, and finally began to think clearly, trying to disregard the blaze in his throat and the constant pound of venom that came with thoughts of Bella Swan.

_How does Carlisle even know them? _He racked his memory for a time when Carlisle's thoughts consisted of Bella Swan or Atellus Aurelius. He recalled some ambiguous thoughts about Atellus when Carlisle grew reminiscent about his travels through Europe...and thoughts about Atellus bringing an unknown girl to live in Forks. But it wasn't enough. _It will _never _be enough_, he realized in vague astonishment. Edward _had_ to know more than what Carlisle's mind had given him. _Who killed her parents and _why_? So many unanswered questions… _He let a tight grin form on his face. _And why can't I stop thinking about her?_

Her swanlike neck shielded only by brunette tendrils…

Her slow, calm pulse…

Her blood's saccharine aroma…

Her long, lean legs…

Her songlike siren's voice…

Her wistful, chestnut eyes…

Her enigmatic mind and past…

Edward knew it was not just her blood that he found irresistible. Despite the horrendous ache in his throat, he found himself longing to see Bella again. He leapt to his feet and, _again_, quenched his maddening, perpetual thirst.

He would slay every creature in the forest if it kept him from even _thinking_ about harming his lovely Isabella Swan.

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"My sweet Aurelia, did you enjoy your day?"

Bella let out the soft laugh she knew Atellus longed to hear at his nickname for her. "It was very interesting…. I met one of the Cullens in my Honors Biology class. Edward."

"Oh, that's wonderful," he beamed as he loaded the oven with something delicious. He raised his golden eyes to hers. "Do you think you'll be friends?"

"I suppose that depends on Edward's strength, Atellus: I'm his singer."

Atellus clenched his jaw, an obscene noise reverberating around the lavish kitchen.

"I was surprised, too, Atellus. I could hardly believe it myself."

"And you are sure of this?" He spun the dial on the restaurant-grade oven.

"You know I'm never wrong." It wasn't just arrogance, also the truth.

Atellus chuckled quietly. "You see, your talent is slightly frustrating to me. If you had visions like Alice Cullen, it would be easier to understand, but you just _know _things!" He handed her a glass of fine wine and grinned lightly. "I came across this bottle some years ago in Rome; I think you'll enjoy it, my Aurelia."

Her pale hand grasped the delicate stem of the glass. "You flatter me, Atellus. Anymore flattery and you can call me Narcissa." With that, she climbed the stairs to her bathroom, downing the expensive alcohol in one go. "I'll be down for dinner shortly."

Bella smiled as she stood underneath the pelting water of her shower.

_It takes just one misstep into the spider's web…. Cullen, you've taken that step. _

He had just become her most exciting game _ever._

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Alrightie. I threw a _lot_ at you with just this first chapter, but everything will, eventually, be explained, I promise. Atellus is an OC, but he's far from a Mary-Sue (or whatever the male equivalent is. Haha.l Is it Jimmy-Joe or something?); his Roman name means _dark-haired_. Jacob Black will make a true appearance a bit later, but he will certainly become a major part of this story. For now, Edward is Bella's main focus—or rather _target_. Next chapter: _Let the games begin…._

Oh, and sorry to those of you who were expecting this fic a _while _ago. A lovely little medical emergency came up, so I just now have been able to get back to this. But I'm all bandaged up with some good ol' meds, so I'll be good as new shortly…supposedly…. (Insert nervous laugh here.)

**Thank you very much for reading! I hope you'll take the time to review! I'd truly appreciate your feedback. ****The people who review EVERY, SINGLE chapter are just plain AWESOME!**

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Okay, so here's my final disclaimer (that only needs to be read if you are, for some reason, annoyed with me or with this fic):

* I do _not_ claim to be an expert on _Twilight_. I know there will be some incongruences, for I am _not _a fan of the series and I will _not _spend my time spilling over the book to find out exactly which period Bella has biology or just who her teacher was. I also don't know if my spiel about 'talents' is exactly correct. But please, don't nitpick all through this story.

* I realize _Twilight _has a very vivacious fan base. That's great. That's wonderful. That's dandy. I would just like to point out something to the 'vivacious fan base': I warned you clearly and thoroughly about the OOC-ness and the dark themes. Also, I do not in any way mean to offend anyone by saying that I am not a fan of the series ("saga" – wtf?). I feel the need to explain this because I once had a (rabid) fangirl basically verbally assault me after she _eavesdropped _on me while I was criticizing the book with a friend. …That was surely…unforgettable…. So I sincerely hope that incident doesn't occur again via fanfiction.

* Lastly, I am a high school student. What all I know of psychology has been self-taught. I intend to become a psychologist later in life; anything having to do with the mind fascinates me. I do have some knowledge of the field and I have had personal experiences that have added to my knowledge, but I do _not _claim to be an expert…yet. I intend to be, though; I can't wait to study psychology in college. : ) I would like to point out, however, that I've read studies that suggest one's environment can lead to acquiring sociopathy, meaning one doesn't necessarily have to be born with the affliction/personality disorder. So is the case in this fic.

Thanks again for reading!

XOXO

Endoh


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